Mysterious Awakening - Chapter 110: The Method of Departure

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

When we think about rigidity in our beliefs or ideas, it can be dangerously limiting and even detrimental.

Historically, the common perception of ghosts is that they are corporeal beings. Even if they evoke fear, one can still see and touch them. They exist in a form we can comprehend.

But this changed for Miles after his experience with the enigmatic “ghost coffin.” When he ventured into it, his consciousness intertwined with a realm of spirits that stretched across the entirety of Yellow Hill Village. Through this, he came to a startling revelation.

The spirits of Yellow Hill weren’t like the ones of lore. They weren’t beings with a physical form; instead, they were manifestations of ideas and concepts. As long as Yellow Hill Village stood, this conceptual spirit would persist, and it was impossible to confine it.

This unique nature of the spirit is what allowed Frank to manipulate the villagers once he entered the coffin. Similarly, after Miles’s immersion into the ghost coffin, he transitioned from a corporeal being to an almost entirely conscious existence.

However, the real essence of their experiences was that they momentarily lived as this unique spirit of Yellow Hill upon their entry into the coffin.

Frank, however, misinterpreted the coffin’s function. He believed it to be a magical device that could seamlessly transform humans into traditional ghosts.

But this was a misconception.

Or perhaps, it was a partial truth.

While the coffin held the power to manifest spirits, it wasn’t creating a spirit version of Frank or Miles. Instead, it was channeling the distinct spirit of Yellow Hill Village, and the coffin had been explicitly crafted for this entity.

In the current state of affairs, this village ghost had departed from the coffin, and now Frank had taken its space.

Unable to reclaim his place in the coffin, and with Frank’s reluctance to vacate it due to his fear of the spirit’s might, they found themselves in a delicate equilibrium.

This was an impasse.

Capturing and confining this formidable spirit required immense sacrifices from three individuals, each paying a hefty price. But the gravity of their situation became chillingly clear when the sound of footsteps emanated from the engulfing darkness beyond.

“How can you assert with such certainty that your version of events is accurate? Your words hold no truth for me,” Frank shot back, anger and disbelief evident on his otherwise emotionless face.

Miles looked at him intently, “You’ve been in this realm long enough to discern its secrets. It isn’t that you can’t piece together the truth. It’s that your fixation on becoming a tangible ghost has blinded you from acknowledging the uncomfortable realities.”

“And what’s wrong with aspiring to be a true ghost?” Frank questioned defiantly. “Once I attain that form, I can command other spirits, unafraid of the backlash from malevolent spirits. The trajectory of this village, the nation, even the world, will be altered by my hand. I will stand out as the sole sentient and truly formidable ghost.”

“Do you grasp the implications of that? I could be the one to avert or even neutralize the supernatural catastrophes spawned by paranormal events. People will hail me as a hero, their savior.” A disturbing gleam of insanity flickered in Frank’s eyes.

Could this truly be his innermost desire?

The thought was truly perplexing.

Miles spoke with a sense of calm authority, “While your motivations may be rooted in righteousness, life often shows no mercy.” He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Every day you remain encapsulated in that coffin, the ghost stands guard outside, ever watchful. Its determination to keep you inside is unyielding. As long as you hinder it from claiming its rightful place within the coffin, it won’t depart, not even for a fleeting second.”

“If someone, perhaps realizing the unparalleled power of the ghost coffin, dared to mount a rescue mission, they’d be unknowingly walking into a death trap. With the ghost standing sentinel outside, how can you ever hope to leave that enclosure and assume the mantle of the world’s savior?”

Frank, unwilling to accept defeat, retorted, “If the ghost is neutralized, then there is no obstacle.”

Raising an eyebrow inquisitively, Miles shot back, “And how, exactly, do you propose to accomplish that feat? This ghost defies all confines. It could present itself as a collective consciousness of the entire village population, or morph into a seemingly inconsequential object like a pebble or a grass blade. It might even take the shape of an entire organization. To put it more explicitly, Yellow Hill Village itself is an embodiment of this spectral entity. You, having researched the paranormal incident at Yellow Hill, should be acutely aware that during the incident, the entire village inexplicably vanished for a three-day span.”

“Then, just as mysteriously as it disappeared, the village reemerged did it not?!” Frank interjected.

Miles nodded in agreement. “But it underwent a profound transformation. What returned was not the village the world once knew. It had metamorphosed into an apparition. During its transitory phase, this ghost, still maturing, may have faltered, causing the village to revert to a semblance of its former self, with life continuing as usual, free from discernible anomalies. I perceive this as a mimetic capacity. Much like how a child imitates adults, the ghost emulates the mundane routines of the village.”

“But mere structures weren’t sufficient. It required souls – inhabitants. The villagers who had mysteriously vanished subsequently reappeared. These individuals weren’t puppets of the ghost but continued living as they had before, guided by their memories and habits. When a villager passed away, they mourned. When visitors entered, they extended their hospitality. However, their confinement to the village was absolute, for they were integral to the village’s very essence. Your venture into the ghost coffin bestowed upon you a modicum of sway over them. This is a testament to your influence over the spectral force here. But that’s why you can’t exert total dominion over a single villager; they, too, are manifestations of this ghostly entity. Swaying their actions is the best you can manage. To assume complete control, you’d have to conquer the spirit ensnared within the coffin.”

Frank’s features danced with a tumult of feelings, with disbelief taking center stage. Though he grappled with Miles’s unnerving revelations, the inescapable truth was glaringly apparent – the ghost persisted as the eerie resonance of footsteps emerged from the enveloping gloom once again as a vague silhouette inched closer to their location.

All signs pointed to the inevitable: the ghost was on the verge of making its presence felt once more. Should they opt to face it head-on, this would mark their second confrontation. But their reserves were depleted, while the ghost seemed at its zenith of power.

If Miles and Frank were to successfully fend off the ghost for another round, it would only pave the way for another confrontation. It was a relentless cycle, with each round intensifying, culminating only when all those capable of containing the spirits were vanquished, giving free rein to the rise of malevolent spirits.

They were now trapped in an inexorable stalemate.

“No,” Frank declared, his eyes wild and his countenance contorted with fervor, “Even if we assume your theory holds water, I still believe there’s a window for me to reverse the tide. I can make my way back to the ghost coffin and regain the equilibrium we once possessed.”

However, he was interrupted mid-sentence by a hand seemingly wrought forth from the darkest night. Frank’s head was decapitated in a swift, brutal motion, now being held aloft by the macabre apparition.

Staring with a mix of rage and incredulity, Frank, although beheaded, was still sentient. “Miles, is that your doing?” he rasped.

“I’m done playing to your tune,” Miles intoned coldly, “I’ll ensure you don’t sabotage my objectives. Our only recourse is to consign that specter back to the ghost coffin. Once achieved, everything that has plagued this land will dissipate, and the paranormal disturbances of Yellow Hill Village will cease. You’re underestimating the threat; you can’t master such a potent force.”

Rendered immobile and dismembered from his body, Frank’s fury surged. “If you’re so convinced about returning the ghost to its coffin, what assurances do we have? What if, in its confinement, it grows exponentially in malevolence? If it breaks free, ever more formidable, who would be equipped to tackle such a behemoth?”

“Why is it acceptable for you to leave the ghost uncontained for personal motives, yet I can’t attempt to restore it to its coffin for my own survival? If and when this specter ever decides to liberate itself, it won’t be my problem to solve. I’d wager the specialists from HQ will have strategies up their sleeves. Once I ensure this ghost is safely interred within its coffin, my duty is done. I’ll bequeath it to the hands of those skilled enough to manage it.” Unyielding, Miles asserted, “Frank, you ought to be grateful. Were it not for the dread of the ghost lurking within you being unleashed, your demise would have been long sealed.”